Donnatella's Diary
by nefret24
Summary: Donna keeps a diary, a la Bridget Jones. JD. Please R&R :
1. Default Chapter

Donnatella's Diary

Donnatella's Diary

Disclaimer: The West Wing is not mine. The show in all of its wonderfulness is Aaron Sorkin's and John Wells' and NBC's. Lucky bastards. I am making absolutely no profit from this either. I repeat, lucky bastards. I also don't own Bridget Jones' Diary or Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason. They're both written by Helen Fielding and published by Penguin Books. 

Feedback: YES! Indeed! Be a responsible reader. Review. J 

Archiving: YES! Indeed! But ask first.

Author's Note: I'm a big fan of the Bridget books and now that the movie's come out- a fan of that too (Colin Firth-oooh ) Couldn't help but think about another love-lorn lady of fiction, television fiction, that is, who is smitten with her boss. Josh N' Donna, Josh N' Donna- aren't they the greatest? By the way, the whole 3rd Generation cell phone issue is a real thing- heard it on NPR. 

****

Sunday, April 5. 8:37 pm. _Diaries purchased 1. Chapters of history book read 0._

Hurrah! Have finally done it! Went out and bought nice leather bound notebook this morning. I am now a diarist. Can go on my resume: assistant to Joshua Lyman, the self titled Deputy-Deputy Chief of Staff and diarist. Feel marvelous. Am veritable Bridget Jones.

Except am not British. 

And am naturally thin (wonderful genes, thank you very much).

And do not smoke. 

But am now a diarist. Could maybe get it published and be famous like Anais Nin, but much less kinky. Will that effect sales? Doesn't matter- will be literary great and will finally be able to move out of hole-in-the-wall apartment with crazy roommate and cats. 

Or at least I will be able to upgrade to a cat-free apartment. 

Speaking of crazy roommate, Candi ("With an I'? Does she know Sam's friend Laurie?") has gone out again with some guy named Chad. Third night in a row. She generally doesn't come back until the afternoon and then she goes out again, to continue the dinners and the dancing and the sex with Chad.

Leaving me here. Alone. With her cats. 

I can foresee my death this way. Clawed to death by mutinying cats, angry that their mother never finds the time between boyfriends to feed them so they exact revenge by viciously slaughtering her roommate. And because Candi will be too busy with Chad or whoever the flavor of the week is, I probably won't be found until the smell begins to bother the neighbors.

My mother will make some comment, "Well, at least she died with clean underwear." And Josh will have to appoint a new Deputy- Deputy Chief of Staff, someone who qualifies for the auspicious post because they're willing to bring him coffee in the mornings. 

Hate feeling like this. Should **not** feel this way. I am a diarist, goddammit! I should be content and metaphorical and have inner poise! 

I should keep reading my history book so I can become a more well-rounded individual. And so I can annoy Josh tomorrow with bizarre historical truths. 

Oooh- the X Files are on. Maybe Mulder will be back from being abducted. And maybe will take off his shirt. Hmmmmm 

****

Monday, April 6. 8:41 am _Number of times Josh has whined about coffee 4. Number of times have gotten him coffee today 0. Number of times have gotten him coffee ever 1. **good** reasons put forth by Josh to change this policy 0. Number of times fantasizing about whacking Josh upside the head with a file cabinet 47 (only reasonable)._

Josh is being particularly cranky today. Believe he is hung over. Again. He is constantly whining about coffee. After he finally realized that I would not capitulate, he got himself a cup full all by himself, griping the entire time in a very loud voice so that I could hear. I have no sympathy. Especially after he started pestering me for refills. 

"I am not a stewardess, Josh."

"Don-NA, pleeeeee-ase"

"No."

"Don-"

"No."

"D-"

"No, Josh. Get to work."

It is not my problem that he has this difficulty with coffee. From the bleary eyed look he gave me when he first walked in, I have to assume that he has no problem putting alcohol into a glass all by himself. 

"But coffee is hot. I could burn myself. You could be responsible for the Deputy Chief of Staff suffering from a third degree burns."

"That's just the chance I'll have to take."

"How do you live with yourself?"

"It's very easy- I don't take up that much space and I always leave the seat down."

What he doesn't see is the beauty of this policy. I get my coffee, he gets his. It's the Great Leveler in the political. GAAAAAAAH!

****

8:53 am

Was Josh bellowing from his office. I swear to God, if he asks me about coffee I will have to strike him with something. Have to find a heavy book to carry in there as ammo. Yes, it's a pity to lose my famous restraint, but a gal can only take so much before 9 o'clock. 

"DONNA!"

Yes, your highness-ness. Coming. 

****

2:39 pm

Josh got fed the 3-g/ military problem by Leo this morning at staff. Then he was in an even worse mood. Not exactly a nice easy issue to start off the week with. But then, maybe he shouldn't make a habit of coming to work plastered and mocking Big Block O'Cheese Day. Cuz, believe it or not, Leo adds these things up. And then he attacks. He's like a stealthy, stealth animal like they have on the Discovery channel and whose name I can never remember. But you know what I mean. You don't expect anything then it bites you in the ass. Similar concept.

Anyway, got to learn another reason why I dislike cell phones. Though still doesn't mean I wouldn't kill for the one Agent Scully carries.

"Basically, they're ready to declare war and the government is going to get caught in the crossfire," Josh explained. "The 1.6 miga-hertz broadcast frequency is a particularly powerful band of airspace that the military has been using for years. It works good through foliage and thin walls."

"Is there really a problem with sending messages through foliage?"

"Donna"

"Cuz that might be why my radio always gets static- it's right next to this potted plant that I have"

"Donna, maybe your radio just sucks. Can I go on here?"

Since he was having a hard day, I let him continue. We'll have a talk about his prejudices against certain radios later when he's a bit less frazzled. 

"Basically, it's good for anything mobile. Not just good, the best. Which is why every cell phone company in the country is dying for the airspace."

"Can't they just share it?" I suggest. Not an unreasonable suggestion, I thought. 

"No."

"Why? Hasn't the military learned how to share?"

"No."

"You should look into that, Josh. I mean, for the Defense Department to be unable to learn a basic tenet of kindergarten classes nationwide."

"Don-naaaaaaa. I am not going to lecture some of the most important generals of the nation in first grade ethics."

"Why not?"

"Cuz they could aim large missiles at my house. And the problem still would not solved. The Third Generation of cell phones basically wants a monopoly on that band for their new products that will allow people greater Internet access through their phones."

"Who wants to surf the net on a phone?" I mean, really. 

"Apparently a lot of people do."

"Who?" 

"I don't know. They did polls. People do."

"Has anyone seen this poll?"

"Well, I haven't."

"Then how do you know they're not making it up? Saying that a lot of people do so that they can get the space?"

"It's not the poll that has us in this jam. It's the money that they've sent to senators who in turn are viciously lobbying on their behalf."

"So basically, by the end of the day, we'll have alienated the military, Congress and big business?"

"Don't try to be funny. It won't cheer me up."

"Why can't the cell phones find their own frequency?"

"They're all taken. And not all bands are prime for mobility, like 1.6 is. The other one they might go after is the 2.5 Educational broadcast."

"So we might alienate the teachers' union as well?"

"Donna"

"Merely making a list for CJ of people she'll have to apologize to in tomorrow's briefing." 

"Aren't you kind?"

"Yes I am, thank you for finally noticing."

"I noticed you NOT bringing me coffee this morning."

"Josh, I am not discussing this."

"*That* would have been a kind thing to do."

"Josh."

"Donna."

"Go to your meeting. Now."

****

Tuesday, April 7th. 9:00 am _Number of times have practiced hacking cough 34. Number of times contemplated not going in to work today 3. Number of times thought about roommate in painful situations involving rabid dogs and piranhas 85._

Should not have come into work today. In fact, should not have even bothered to get up at all. Absolutely dread today. One of the many days I wish I had more of a backbone to yell at crazy roommate. Unfortunately, until I can find a better apartment and an better roommate, am stuck in living hell. 

It all began last night. Candi and Chad had apparently had sex on every surface possible in his apartment and decided to try out Candi's bed last night. Which they did. Thoroughly. The banging of the headboard against the thin walls, plus their own inventive sound effects, would not stop. It was 2:30 in the morning and still it would not stop. 

At that point, completely gave up any hope of getting any kind of sleep whatsoever so I went into the living room, got a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and ended up watching _The Sound of Music_. 

As the Captain and Maria were dancing the Lendler, Candi finally emerged out from under Chad to get a drink of water. She decided to have a little chat with me, explaining how Chad has this friend named Walter and how nice it would be if we could all go out to dinner together. She and Chad want to bond with me. I figured if I had let her keep going she would eventually ask me to be her maid of honor (she was that stoned) so I gave in. 

I hate being fixed up. I hate the fact that not only am I being placed into a coupling against my will, I have to be coupled with a good buddy of Chad's. And to be quite frank, I hate Chad. I hate the way his moaning kept me up all night. I hate how smugly superior he acted towards me this morning and I hate the fact that he ate all of my cereal in a munchies attack last night. 

So I'm thinkin' that I'm going to hate Walter too. And before this day is out, Josh will know about Walter, make nasty comments about my lovelife and then Josh will be on my hate list. 

Not a banner day in the life of Donnatella Moss. 

Will tell Josh about leaving early now since he is hopefully in good mood before nasty meetings with cell phone senators today.

****

11:35 am

Was wrong. Josh in bad mood altogether. At least he didn't mention the coffee. Decide I'll break it to him before I leave for lunch.

****

5:59 pm

Okay, chickened out before lunch. But will definitely tell him now. 

"Josh?"

"Donna, please tell me there is a crisis of national importance that needs my attention right now."

"There is a crisis of national importance that needs your attention right now."

"Really? Great. Then call Keely and tell him the meeting's off."

"I'm humoring you, Joshua."

"That's cruel. Very cruel. Could you at least pretend there's a crisis?"

"No."

"Then go away- I don't like you anymore."

"Crushed, really. Josh."

"Donna? Is the crisis back on?"

"No. And sticking your tongue out at me will not inspire me to help you."

"Hmph."

"Josh. I need to get out early today."

"Why?"

"I'm busy."

"So am I."

"I have plans."

"To do what?"

"To be somewhere else this evening. To eat food that's not from the mess."

"Oh. You have a **date.**"

"Yeah. So can I have off?"

"What's his name?"

"Can I have off?"

"_What's his name_?"

"_Can I have off?"_

"Name first."

"No."

"Fine."

"Great. Thanks, Josh. The papers for the meeting are on your desk and your notes for tomorrow are on mine."

"I never said you could"

"Yes, you did."

"Noooo"

"Yes, there was a distinct Fine' uttered back there."

"Donna!"

"Joshua!"

He just kind of stood there in his office doorway, looking all childish and helpless. I felt sorry for him- he was having a rough week and it was only Tuesday. I wanted to scrap the entire dinner then and there.

There are times when I really hate my awful habit of keeping my promises.

"Have a nice time," he said, in not at all joking or bantering tones. It was that quiet, sweet voice that he uses only once in a blue moon.

It softens me. I know that. It happens every time. Little Miss Unrequited Melts at Boss' Puppy Dog Glance. Film at eleven. 

"I can come back later- if you need me."

"I'll be fine. Just have fun, okay?"

I pause. Goddamn, why must be such an ass sometimes and then knock me for a loop with this kind crap!

As I am leaving, he turns as if to go back into his office. 

"His name is Walter."

He turns, flashes me a weak smile, and goes to his desk, hard at work once more.

****

9:25 pm

Dinner was a disaster. Candi and Chad made goo-goo eyes at each other throughout the appetizer and finally excused themselves before the main course, probably to go have sex at my apartment. They had ordered already- leaving me and Walter to pay their bill. Strike number one. 

Meanwhile, Walter was educating me on polymer glues. Yep. He was a painting conservator, who apparently specialized in adhesives. Why the hell anyone would want to know so much about epoxies is beyond me but Walter was a veritable dictionary on the subject and could talk of nothing else. Literally nothing else. Strike number two. 

Walter seemed to mistake my glazed over boredom for wide-eyed admiration because in the parking lot he thought it would be a good idea to shove his tongue down my throat. Probably a move inspired by Chad. Obviously the man wasn't too bright if glue held so much fascination for him. Or maybe he simply had sniffed it way too much. Didn't matter -it was strike number three and I was getting the hell outta there. 

So I went back to the West Wing, partly to see if Josh still needed anything and partly because I didn't want to return home to find Candi and Chad doing the nasty in my kitchen. 

He's in his office. The light's on. 

"Josh?"

"Donna. You're back."

"How was the meeting?"

"Painful. And continuing tomorrow. Didn't happen to hear of any national crises while at dinner, did you?"

"No, but I can tell you all about polymer bonding structure."

"I don't want to know," he muttered. He doesn't seem to realize that I can hear his muttering. I have very astute hearing. And I've found it a useful secret to keep from Josh.

"Do you need me for anything? I thought maybe there was something I could do- you know, to help with the meeting thing tomorrow?"

"Can you overthrow the government?"

"No."

"Can you bring me coffee?"

"No."

"Then I guess there's nothing you can do." 

"Okay. Then I guess I'll be leaving then."

"The date went well?"

"No. Not at all."

"Is that a new dress?"

"No, I believe it will live in infamy as the Todd dress."

"You didn't return it?"

"I didn't return it."

"It's a nice dress."

"Yeah."

"Donna?" He stops me as I'm leaving. "He's not worth it. He's not worthy of you."

"How did you know?"

"No one is." And with another weak smile, he retreated back into his office.

****

10:46 pm

In apartment once more but still having trouble breathing. Josh gave me a compliment. Can't believe it. I am still distrusting my ears. Maybe Walter was packing glue and in epoxy haze, I only dreamt Josh's words, his sweet and sad look, the puppy dog face.

Am delusional, obsessive, hopeless romantic freak who is tortured by thoughts of her boss and her roommates' shrieks of "Chad!" 

For some reason, I cannot help but think of the words of Baroness Schraeder: "There is nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."

Doesn't he see it? By now? After all that we've been through? 

Maybe irresistible effects will take place tomorrow. Until then, can only be hopeful that she was right. And convince Josh that one person is completely, totally and utterly worthy of me.

Him. 


	2. The Week Continues

11:42 pm ****

11:42 pm

Must come up with a strategy. Josh is the master of strategy- or so he assumes. Knowing how to avoid people after you piss them off shouldn't really qualify as criteria for the title of "Master Strategist" but Josh seems to think so. But in order to deal with this situation, I'm definitely going to need a plan of action. 

"Josh, I don't know if you've been blind for the past two years, but I'm completely in love with you and I was kind of wondering if you give a flying fig about me."

No. That sucks. The truth, yes. But it isn't Shakespeare. Nor is it a tactically wise thing to do. Can't really follow general government policy of denying everything if I have just spilled my guts to him. Nix strategy number one.

"Josh, here's a hypothetical situation for you. An assistant is in love with her boss and is unsure if her feelings are reciprocated. What should she do?"

Wild monkeys could figure out who the hypothetical assistant is. Will give Josh the benefit of the doubt that he could figure it out too. Yet, gives him an opening to play dumb. A better strategy than Number one but still weak. 

I think I need some Ben & Jerry. Somewhere I'm pretty sure I read that it helps stimulate the thinking processes. 

So I'm making it up. Didn't really read that somewhere. Doesn't mean that it's not true. 

Ice cream is good. Ice cream is a universal comfort constant. No matter what happens, it will be there for you. Supportive. Caring. And in my case, chocolately-delicious. And good for those thinking up strategies late at night. 

"Josh, heard from Joey Lucas lately?"

AAARGH! The masochist in me rises again. Why, why, why do I do this to myself? 

I know why. Cuz I have this sick fantasy that by pushing Josh into Joey's waiting arms, he'll realize that the one he loves is somebody else. 

Namely me.

Keep dreaming, girl. And say goodbye to strategy three. 

Three strikes and I'm out.

****

Wednesday, April 7th. **8: 03 pm** _Number of strategies formulated 19. Number of strategies found to be acceptable 0. Number of times have mentally beaten up self for monumental stupidity very large, uncountable number_

Very nervous at work today. It's because I have no strategy. There's this compliment of Josh's that's just _hanging_ out there and I don't know what to do with it. I obsessed all last night, I've obsessed all this morning and I'm obsessing now. I'm fidgeting. It's what I do. And Josh is giving me weird looks.

"Donna?"

"Yes, Josh?"

"Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"Did some random office supply mistakenly get shoved up your ass?"

"No!"

"Then will you please sit still! You're driving me crazy!"

If only. And he was so nice to me yesterday. Hot and cold, this Joshua Lyman.

So why the hell do I bother? Out of all the men in all the worldwhy oh why him? 

I seem to be asking myself "why?" a lot lately. Perhaps I should become a Zen-Buddhist. Could meditate and find the meaning of life. Then maybe all other questions will get answered too. I should ask Josh if I could get paid leave for spiritual guidance.

"You want what?"

"Paid leave for realizing my spiritual self."

"Uh-huh."

"Self actualization has its benefits, Josh."

"Okay, but I really don't see why we should pay you for it."

"Cuz when I find out the meaning of life, I just might share it with you."

"Might?"

"Well, you know, if a guy were to, say, take his assistant to Hawaii"

"To get in touch with her spiritual self.?"

"Tropical sun and warm weather speed the meditative process."

"Shouldn't you be perched on a high mountain somewhere instead?"

"Really, Josh. That's just silly."

"Yeah- cuz we all know how paid leave for self actualization is a serious topic of discussion."

"Josh-"

"They debate it in the hallowed halls of the Senate."

"Now you're just mocking me."

"See? All the perception you need, right here."

"I think I could get better in Hawaii."

"Donna, I think you're crazy enough as it is. Where the hell is the Daniels' file?"

"Under your paperweight."

"I have a paperweight?"

And so the cycle continues. Banter buddies and nothing more. How could I have thought otherwise?

It's fate. It has to be. Just look at all the couples with dynamic verbal exchanges who suffer roadblocks in their love lives. To cover motion pictures and television alone would take months. So- let us confine our data gathering to the West Wing, shall we?

Exhibit A: Josh and yours truly. I hardly need bother to go into this, right? Obvious. Glaringly, painfully and humiliatingly obvious.

Exhibit B: CJ and Toby. I know what you're thinking: Whatever happened to Danny Concannon? Doesn't matter. They had their banter way before Danny ever entered the picture and Toby's better at it too. "Is there ever a time I don't want to make out with you?"

If Josh ever said that to me, I think I'd need lots more that just a strategy. I'd need medical personnel to jolt me with those paddles a few times. Then some Lyman mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Oh yeah.

But I digress. Focus. Zen-Buddha, come to me now.

Exhibit C: Sam and Ainsley. Apparently it was lost on the others that it took them an inordinately longish amount of time to get coffee the other night during the joke writing session. Love knows no bounds- it even crosses political parties.

So why can't it cross the line between Deputy Chief of Staff and assistant?

I think the planets are aligned against me. I bet NASA could prove it if anything they built ever worked. 

I set low expectations for myself. That's why I go out with these morons all the time. That and I'm terrified of dying alone in my apartment gored by cats. And then there's Josh. Is that setting myself up too high?

Nah. This is Josh Lyman we're talking about here. The moron who almost burned down the White House while making a fire in a non-functioning fireplace. The conceited bastard who constantly puts his foot in his mouth. The swaggering doofus who absolutely refuses to take his assistant to Hawaii.

Maybe I'm still setting my expectations too low.

Yes. That's it. New strategy: find someone better than Josh Lyman.

Like hell I will. 

Okay then. Will continue strategy that has worked thus far. Should Josh bestow kindliness on me or vice versa, verbal or non-verbal, will shrug it off and scuttle out of the room as quickly as possible to avoid embarrassment, making sure am not followed. It worked after my Dr. Freeride confession. _If you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for red lights._ Meant every word. But got my ass out of that room so fast you would have thought my hair had caught on fire and I was rushing to extinguish it. 

It sucks, I know. But it has had its uses. And I can't seem to think of anything better. At least, not without some ice cream.

****

10:37 pm

Walter called me. Apparently he is very penitent about last night and would like to make it up to me by taking me out to dinner. Isn't that the kick in the head? The guy is an asshole, so much so that the date prematurely ends, yet because he takes the time to say he's sorry he gets another? 

I said sure. Am I an idiot or what? 

No. Am not an idiot. Am a masochist. Am a raving psychotic masochist. I have the stupid idea that if I can't push Josh into Joey Lucas' arms then I'll throw myself into someone else's. Anyone else's. Teeming with jealousy, hurt and alone, he will finally realize his true feelings for me and will climb up my fire escape a la Richard Gere in _Pretty Woman_ and whisk me away from this hellhole. 

Yeah. Right. 

Padded rooms are looking real good right now. Especially if I can get away from cats, Candi and Chad. 

Crazy might not be all that bad.

****

Thursday, April 8th. 7:27 pm _Number of times Walter has mentioned glue in the last five minutes 34. Number of times wished Walter was Josh 89. Chances of me minding the talk about glue if it were Josh talking 1,000,000 to 1. Number of people suddenly coming to town 1 (entirely too many)._

Hate dating. Am now huddled in ladies restroom hiding from Walter, who, if he hailed from a village, would certainly have been the idiot in residence. It's not like he hasn't tried to get on my good side by speaking slightingly of Chad. But somehow all roads lead to epoxy in this nightmarish world into which I have descended. A world where only one place is safe: the bathroom. 

Think I am making the other women uncomfortable as I sit here writing away while they primp in front of the mirror for (I suppose) their dates/ significant others. At this point, I don't really care. It's better than playing "Know Your Solvents" out in the dining room. 

Josh had his last of the cell phone meetings today. They had been so frustrating to him that I almost brought him coffee in the morning. But I didn't. It would have ruined our whole dynamic. That and I'm afraid of every move that I make around him now. I watch my steps carefully to make sure that I'm not giving myself away. Bringing him coffee most definitely would have signaled that something was up. 

And absolutely nothing is up. I'm just regular ole Donna. Who remains completely besotted by her boss. Nothing new. 

I didn't tell Josh about this date. I figure I can spare myself the humiliation in the morning. Cuz he ain't no Richard Gere and I'm a far cry from Julia Roberts. (Though I do have alabaster skin- take that Pretty Woman!) But I hope he's not pissed off at me. I kinda just left. I mean, the rest of the world gets off hours before I usually do so technically speaking, I left at what is considered to be an acceptable time. Which is to say, not acceptable in the West Wing. Or rather, not acceptable to Joshua Lyman, the order impaired slave driver. 

Am about to go back and face my doom. I've been in here for almost a half an hour now and I think he might get suspicious that I'm not . GAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Was my beeper. Forgot I had left it on vibrate. Gave me quite the jolt since I was half sitting on my purse. Now several more ladies are giving me bizarre looks since I jumped up with a half-yelp. It's Josh. It's urgent. 

Thank you, oh thank you, God! Thank goodness for my workaholic boss! I love him! Already did but now more cuz am rescued from date from hell! Prince Charming, I'm coming to the rescue! It's only fair, since he came to mine.

****

11:56 pm

Guess what Josh's emergency was. Was it a terrorist attack on a US embassy somewhere? Did the cell phone issue become so incredibly out of hand that he was receiving death threats from all parties involved? Had his proverbial crisis actually occurred and the government was poised on the brink of collapse?

No. It was worse. 

It was Joey Lucas. 

Yep. Back in town only four hours and already screwing with me and the precious balance of my psyche. 

Supposedly Josh had called her to do an actual official poll on the cell phone thing. Am so glad, flattered and flustered to realize that he actually pays attention to what I tell him. Warm, fuzzy feeling that's absolutely grand.

Until it's completely disintegrated when I have to counsel him on what tie will impress Joey the most. Doesn't he realize that I am not the person to ask? Why not CJ? Or Sam? No. He picks me. Sexually frustrated and angst ridden me. 

I should have stayed in college. I should have gotten my degree in French and gone off to Paris where I could dress in haute couture and sip lattes in open air cafes and be millions of miles away from Joshua Lyman. 

One of the most powerful men in the country who still can't dress himself. 

And yet I still love him. God. Am. I. Pathetic. 

He noticed my absence too. He mentioned it as I was helping him straighten his selected tie. Didn't he realize that that was a bad thing to bring up when I was in a position to choke the living daylights out of him? 

"Was it that guy again?"

"What?"

"William? Wesley? Wanker?"

"Oh, _Walter_. Yeah. It was him."

"Why bother?"

"Cuz he wanted to apologize."

"You gave him a second date because he wanted to apologize for the first one."

"Yes."

"And this didn't like immediately appear as a really lame excuse to see you again."

"Would you please stop fidgeting? It'll be your own damn fault if your tie isn't straight. Apologies are sexy."

"What?"

"Apologies are sexy. It happens to be very appealing when a man can admit that he's wrong."

"As opposed to looking like a ninth grade dating strategy?"

Josh Lyman. Lecturing me on love strategy. Boy, is he out of his league. Need subject switch quick. 

"Josh, this is why you get nowhere with Joey Lucas. Because you don't know how to read women's signs."

"What signs? There are no signs!"

"Josh, there are signs. She likes you. She shows it. You need to take advantage of this and not just by wearing a nice tie."

Masochist. Masochist. Masochist. 

"And you're suggesting what?"

"Go to dinner. Go have drinks. Go somewhere that is not the West Wing and endeavor to speak of something that does not involve politics or world affairs. And if you say something stupid, which inevitably happens"

"No, it doesn't"

"Which inevitably happens, just apologize."

"Because it's sexy."

"Very."

"Where do you come up with this crap?"

"Years of experience, Joshua. Years of experience."

Long pause. Long awkward pause. I hate these. And they always seem more frequent when a certain pollster is in town. 

"I'm sorry I interrupted your thing tonight."

"Are you? I'm not." Must. Follow. Procedure. Get out while you still can breathe. He's using the nice voice. Run. Now.

"I do know the signs. I just can't do anything about them," he muttered. 

Even while rapidly scuttling, I can still pick up the Lyman mutterings. Such weary bitterness in that statement. I wanted to go back and give him a big hug. That would be a sign he couldn't miss. It effected me rather oddly. For some absurd reason, I assumed he was talking about me and not Joey Lucas. Felt the need to go home right away. So I did. 

Probably best to avoid him altogether. Let him realize his thing for Joey. It's all for the best really. I think I've lost my ability to banter. And I probably make very tasty cat food. 

****

Friday, April 9th. 12:15 pm_._ _Revelations 1 (isn't that enough for one day anyway?). _

OH. MY. GOD. Have decided 9 must be the luckiest number in the world.

Okay. First bizarre thing of today: Josh got here before me. He never gets here before me. Okay, well there were those few times when he got stoned at his desk and never left the building and **then** he was, technically speaking, here before me. But those don't count. He **never** gets here before I do. 

First thought: He slept with Joey Lucas. He had such a rousing night of good polling numbers and fantastic sex that he bolted out of bed and with a spring in his step rushed to the West Wing before me. 

No. Handed Josh new memos for this morning and he wasn't very chipper. Not like a man who had sex with Joey Lucas. Sigh of relief. 

Yet, he looked so depressed this morning before staff. Maybe he struck out with her. Made a pass and she said, sorry, I'm sleeping with Al Kiefer again or similar political doofus. Then I'd have to maim her cuz I can't have people messing with my boss that way. 

Then it happened. Josh walked back from staff with Sam and then went into his office, half shutting his office door. He does this every so often, when he wants privacy but wants to maintain this look of innocence, like nothing important is going on behind a mostly closed door. The great thing about this silly act of his is that while you can't see much, you can still hear everything, down to the last detail. 

Thank goodness for my acute hearing, that's all I have to say. Cuz as I was going back to my desk with my coffee, I overheard this:

"I feel like I'm in junior high again." Sam. Very frustrated. 

"Just answer the damn question!" Josh. Also frustrated. What the hell is going on?

"Maybe she's trying to be helpful. She's a very nice person, you know."

"Yes, I know, we've met. But what I'm asking is why the hell would she encourage this?"

Who is the remarkable she'? Joey Lucas? 

Large sigh from Sam. "Let me ask you a question. Do you like Joey?"

Pause. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. "She's a very attractive woman" Damn Josh Lyman and his superficiality! 

"Okay, now **you're** the one who's avoiding questions."

"Well, you started it."

"Did not!"

"Did too! I asked you what you thought of Donna encouraging this thing with Joey Lucas two days ago and yet still no answer."

GASP. Help. Having weird feeling in my knees and in precarious position with great probability of falling over.

"If _you_ would answer _my_ question, then I could help answer yours."

"Okay, Sam? This is why you sucked at policy debate in college."

"You gonna insult me or you gonna answer the question?"

"Well, since I already answered the question, I think I'll choose insult you for $200."

"You know what? I don't think I like you anymore. And if I were Donna, a feat which of course would require of number of things most notably a sex change and a predilection towards men, I wouldn't like you either."

AAAAAAAH! Sam- you are going down. If I have to break every bone in your body-

"What did you say?" Please oh please tell me that Josh momentarily went deaf and that Sam walks away. Don't answer him, don't-

"You heard me." SAM!

"Joey Lucas said the same thing." 

"Joey hates you too? Great another political snafu you've gotten us into"

"No, no- that, that Donnalikes me." WHAT?! Goddamn that woman! How the hell does she know?

"Good God, Josh, isn't it obvious?" Thank you so much for caring, Sam. Bastard. "Has anyone ever stuck with you that long- other than me of course and members of your immediate family?" Good point Sam. Still pissed at you though.

Silence. Ooooooh, not good, not good, not good. Will now have to get new job, in new country, maybe with new face.

"Josh? Do you like Donna?"

EEK! EEK! EEK! EEK! 

"Sure, I like Donna. She's fun and intelligent and she files stuff for me and has good taste in ties"

"No, no, do you liiiiike her?"

Ohmychristalive. 

"She doesn't bring me coffee." Still harping on that, are we?

"Josh-"

"Wouldn't you think if this, this assumption you're making was true that she would bring me coffee?"

"Josh-"

"I think so."

Couldn't stay and listen anymore. Had to get out. Wobbled to the door and walked around in a haze. Felt like laughing and crying all at once. 

Now am no longer feeling as hysterical. Walked til I found this nice bench in the Sculpture Garden near the fountain. The cherry blossoms are in bloom and everything is wonderful. 

At least until I go back. I'll need a strategy. But, right now, the sun and the sky and the cherry blossoms are enough for me. Why? Because Josh likes me. Really likes me. 


	3. TGIF

12:30 pm ****

12:30 pm

Okay, must make a list:

Reasons for confrontation with Josh:

-Love him

-Will finally hear him say he likes me to my face

-Won't have to come up with strategies anymore (taking their intellectual toll)

-Could get past this awkward stage and move forward with my life as biological clock ticks onward

-Won't die gored by cats

Reasons against confrontation with Josh:

-Lose whole Queen of the Masochists thing

-Find out that he really doesn't like me at all or too chicken to tell me

-Will make work situation more awkward as dating the boss and will piss off CJ

-Will have to confess well kept secret of great hearing

-Relationship could fail miserably then lose job along with love of my life

Hmmm. Tough call. Maybe if I make another list..GAAAAAAAAAAAAH! It's Josh walking over to me.How the hell did he know I was here? Did he follow -- 

"Donna."

"Uh, hi, Josh."

"What are you doing here?"

"Writing."

"Okay, yeah. I get that. Writing what?"

"Stuff." Shut the diary. If only I could eat the evidence. 

"Uh-huh. So I take it it's not work related?"

"No."

"And you just thought you'd sneak away to write, what was it? Non-work related _stuff_ in the Sculpture Garden in the middle of the day because?"

"You need to make time for yourself, Josh."

"I do- I just don't generally choose the times when I'm supposed to be at work."

"Consider this a lunch break."

"You're not having lunch."

"But I could be eating if I wasn't writing, because this is generally lunchtime."

"You don't go to lunch until one."

"Well, now I'm going to lunch with the rest of the world who don't have slave-drivers for bosses."

"I'm a slave-driver?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Says who?"

"Says me." Yes. We do work at the White House. One of us is very influential in running the country. Sheds the light on a few things, doesn't it? "I think I can claim authority on knowing the Joshua Lyman personality- which includes several other minor personalities, of good and bad alike, one of which is the slave driver."

He's giving me a weird look now, cocking his head to the side and looking at me like I'm nuts, yet getting extremely amused by my apparent ridiculousness. I can tell cuz the laugh lines near his eyes appear and the copyrighted smirk falls into place. With his hair sticking out in disheveled tufts , oooh- 

Good God, woman pull yourself together! You are a _writer_. Inner poise! Zen Buddha! Cherry Blossom Peacefulness! 

"So why are you here?" Counter that, Mr. Ivy League. Betcha were following me. Betcha betcha betcha.

"I, uhI"

Wimp. "Cuz you better get back. Joey will be looking for you." Always the assistant first.

"Huh?"

"Your lunch appointment. With Joey Lucas? You said you'd meet her at quarter of, which has been and gone-"

"I have only twenty til-"

"Your watch sucks."

He smiles. A big grin stretches across his face. The first honest-to-God, genuine Lyman grin of the week. Can't help but smile back to that one. 

"You should really go. Now," I say firmly, looking as if I'm going to start writing again. Take the hint.

"Donna- this, this thing with Joey- you know it's not going to work out."

"Why not? There are plenty of good reasons why-"

"Donna! It's not going to work." Love you, love you, love you! "And I swear to God, if you so much as mention rosebuds, I'll"

"Fine. You're still going to be late." And did I mention I have the utmost respect for you at this moment?

"Will you forget Joey Lucas! There is no thing, there are no signs. I'm not in love with her!"

If you asked me right now, coffee for the rest of your days baby! 

"So maybe for a while, she seemed pretty appealing and I got a suit"

"Your special suit." Glare at me, I am impervious. It was your special suit and you know it. And you know I know it.

"And gave her a damn mug but that was it! Nothing more! I don't call her, I don't fixate on her or dream about her or want to date her or marry her and have nine kids in Nebraska!"

"Nebraska? Who the hell would want to live in Nebraska? And with nine kids?"

"DONNA!"

"Whoa, Josh, fine. Okay? Fine. I promise, no more pestering if that's the way you want it."

"You don't understand-"

"Yes I do. You don't want to go out with Joey Lucas and you never want me to mention gathering rosebuds again."

"Donna-"

"Oops, mentioned them, didn't I?" I babble when I'm nervous. It's a habit. "Sorry. It won't happen again."

"I do all those things for somebody else."

Said so quietly that had I not such aural gifts I doubt I would have been able to pick it up. EEK! Play it dumb or question him? What to do?

He's giving me a look. I would say that it was Puppy Dog face but it was much more intense. Like he means for me to make the intellectual leap. A look that says what I've known all along. 

"Donna? Are you alright?" Must be gaping. Coherent sentences are beyond me right now. Can you maybe wait a day or two when my brain begins to function again?

"Josh"

"Look, I'm going to head back. You wanna hotdog or pretzel or something?"

"Josh Lyman, the true ladies' man. Do I get a drink too?"

"Will I get coffee tomorrow?"

"No."

"You're so damn picky."

"Joshua-"

"Can we get a move on here? I'm really hungry. Didn't have breakfast." Sheepish grin.

Knew that him getting there early was fixed! I simply smile back. 

"Certainly." I will take my time though. Just to see his face. He likes it when I annoy him. Really. 

"My lady," he says, offering me his arm.

"Joshua."

And we got lunch, strolling down the Mall under the cherry blossoms' bows.

****

9:16 pm

Am very very happy. Couldn't be more blissful. Yeah so he never said the words. Big deal. It's not like we can really date with any kind of feasibility or CJ will descend upon us with venom. But there are lunches and banter and politics to keep us together for a while longer. 

And then who knows? 

Fin


End file.
